


Good Clean, Dirty Fun

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Peterick, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick and Joe need to clean their filthy apartment and somehow they get Pete to help them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Clean, Dirty Fun

**Author's Note:**

> I was channelling all the stoner boys I once knew who lived in filthy apartments when I wrote this. Thanks to my kind sister for the idea.

There were many, many words that could be used to describe Patrick and Joe's apartment in its current state. Messy, cluttered, filthy, gross, a biohazard, might be a few of them. Clean and tidy would be nowhere in that list. 

There was a spare room in their apartment since their last roommate had moved out several weeks before. Since then, Patrick and Joe had sort of let the housework slide a bit. Or a lot. It wasn't that they were destroying the apartment. They looked after the place in general terms, no huge parties, no kitchen fires, and no destructive animals. The place was usually a little bit messy, but lately due to procrastination, laziness, and in Joe's case, a big bag of weed, they had let the cleaning slide and it had gotten pretty bad. It needed a little tlc, a once over with soap and water and maybe some industrial strength solvent, and it would be fine. They needed to let the room out. Hopefully to someone they knew. And for that they needed the apartment to be presentable.

"We're sort of fucked aren't we? How did we let it get this bad?"  
"It's cool. We can do it." Joe said. "I've reinforcements coming to help us."  
"Reinforcements?"  
"Yeah yeah."  
"Who's coming to help?"  
"Just Pete. We can pay him in pizza or something. He's easily pleased."  
"Pete?" Patrick had met Joe's friend Pete a bunch of times. Nice guy. Easily distracted. Full of energy. Pretty cute. Patrick wouldn't necessarily describe Pete as overly helpful, unless you wanted someone to bat their eyelashes at the barmaid to get them served quicker. But whatever, Pete was enthusiastic, and many hands make light work, didn't they?

Their procrastination had stretched far enough that the previous day when they had attempted to start cleaning, they had done forty-five minutes work and then played Mario Kart for about seven hours. And they still hadn't cleaned their apartment. It was still pretty disgusting.

Patrick and Joe had taken a trip to the supermarket and bought all manner of cleaning things to help sort out their filthy house; bleach, sponges, antibacterial stuff, spray things, bottled things. Mostly it was cleaning products that sounded good on the label with words like "wow" and "miracle" and anything else that made it sound as if it would make the cleaning easier. That would be the laziness again. They had enough chemicals between them to possibly turn one of them into some sort of mutant superhero. Patrick hoped it would be a mutant with the super power to clean really quickly, so that he wouldn't have to.

Pete called over soon after they started. Which mean they could take a break to welcome him. Of course they could. They even made coffee. They decided they deserved a break after the, oh, thirty four minutes hard graft they had put in so far. Pete seemed keen to help them out.

They split up the rooms to cover more ground more quickly. Joe took the spare room which had become a dumping ground for all and sundry since their previous tenant had vacated. Patrick took the living room. Pete was to clean the bathroom (Patrick thought he was either brave or foolhardy to agree to that), and they would split the kitchen and hallway at the end.

Joe made himself busy in the spare room, sorting and organising and cleaning. Patrick brought Pete to the bathroom and showed him what needed to be done. Everything. Pete pulled on heavy yellow rubber gloves with a huge grin. They were more interesting to him than they should be considering they were completely gross and had lived under the sink for too long. 

"Dude!" He held his hands up so he could examine them better. "These look totally kinky. Do you do weird sexy things with these gloves?" He rubbed a gloved finger on his arm with glee and arched his eyebrow at Patrick wickedly. "Feels so weird. Never thought you'd be into rubber, Pattycakes. You've been holding out on me!" He was about to touch a rubbered finger to his face when Patrick lunged towards him to stop him.

"No! Pete! Jesus, they're for cleaning the fucking toilet. And anything else that you don't want to touch with your bare hands. Gross." Patrick would have pulled them off Pete except for the whole toilet-cleaning thing. Pete looked horrified, and also slightly disappointed. "I think Joe had his hands in the drain wearing them once."

"Ok. No kinky stuff."   
"No. You sure you're ok cleaning the bathroom, Pete? It's pretty bad."  
"Leave it to me, Trick. I've got this." Pete gave Patrick a somewhat reassuring smile and a rubber-gloved thumbs up. Patrick smiled weakly in return. He wasn't sure he really believed Pete, but desperate times called for desperate measures. They would end up running out of time soon of they didn't get on with it.

Patrick set about cleaning the living room area which was just as bad as the other areas of the house. They spent the most time there so it made sense. He cleared the coffee table of all the random debris like dishes, food wrappers, empty soda cans, and all manner of other things. These things included a dirty sock. Gross. There was also dried food, and sticky stains from overflowing drinks, but it looked a million times better afterwards. Patrick cleaned the floor pretty easily. He picked up all the books, cleared abandoned shoes to the hallway and threw any miscellaneous clothes into the laundry. There was a single, solitary Dorito on the rug that he knew had been there for almost a week. He knew this because no one had eaten Doritos in almost a week. He'd admit that that was pretty awful. Best not to think about it.

When the floor was clear he swept it quickly and ran the vacuum over it. He rubbed a wet sponge over the things that looked like stains on the wooden floor, some of them came off, and some of them didn't. He shrugged to himself. It looked ok.

He dared to peek under the couch and then quickly decided that was a really bad idea when he saw how much junk was under it. Honestly, it was like some sort of abyss, and he was sure that anything he may have lost since he moved in would be in there. But it wasn't worth it to clean it today. He didn't have the energy, and no one would be looking there he hoped. He would deal with under the couch another day.

He returned to the bathroom to see if Pete needed any help. There hadn't been a sound from him in a while. He had been happily singing along to the radio for a while but that had dissipated which meant that Pete was probably hard at work. Or not. Pete was sitting on the floor, cross legged and hunched over his phone. The stocking cap he had been wearing to keep his bangs off his face was off and in a ball in his lap, and his hair was damp and sticking up in all directions. Perfect hat-hair. The rubber gloves he had been wearing and so fascinated by, lay abandoned on the floor beside him. 

"Hey, Trick. Did you know you have mould in your shower?"  
Patrick sighed. "Yep. I know. That's why we have to clean it."  
"But it's not just any mould. It's advanced mould."  
"Really? Advanced?" Patrick was not particularly interested, unless it was the sort of advanced mould that would clean itself away. But maybe if he humoured Pete, he would hurry the fuck up with the bathroom so they could get to the interesting part of the day; beer and pizza.  
"Yeah. I started cleaning it and it's all these colours. Like most mould is green or black, right? But this is white and pink! I looked it up, it says it's really advanced."  
"Well if it's on the internet it much be true." Patrick sat down on the floor ready to clean the shower himself. Pete seemed to know Patrick wasn't really believing him. But he smirked at him, uncaring that Patrick wasn't into the mould as much as he was.  
"You could sell your advanced mould to scientists. Maybe it's a new strain. You could get tons of money and not have to get a new roommate." Pete looked thoroughly pleased with his idea.  
Patrick looked around the bathroom and almost everything else was done. It looked like a brand new bathroom now. He had thought Pete was being a slacker, but he had actually done really well so far. He smiled and felt a twinge of guilt for thinking Pete was just being annoying and dodging work, he was actually trying to help. "Thanks, but I don't think anyone wants our mould. Maybe we can grow some more and try to sell the next lot? You've done a ton of cleaning, Pete. Thanks. Really. Want me to finish the shower and you can see if Joe is done?"  
"Whatever you want, Patrick." 

Pete got up, and headed for the door. As he left he gave Patrick a friendly pat on the head. What could have come across as patronising, came off as sweet and fond instead.

Patrick put on the disgusting rubber gloves and poured enough of shower cleaning stuff to smother the mould. "Take that, motherfucker," he mumbled under his breath. The shower detergent was strong enough to make his eyes water, and possibly make him sterile, but it got rid of the mould with not too much scrubbing. He was thrilled when it was done and he could flop down on the couch. Joe and Pete were already there, and greeted him with tired smiles. All they had left to do was the kitchen. It was the filthiest of all of the rooms, but once that was done they could relax. 

Patrick did the sink and dishes. Joe tackled the refrigerator, which contained a large selection of old food products well past their use-by dates. Pete took it upon himself to clean the kitchen benches, the table, and floor which could probably be a day’s work all on their own. 

Shortly into their cleaning, Patrick heard Pete hum the tune to So Fresh, So Clean absentmindedly and when Patrick caught his eye, Pete smiled and added in the words. It may have been horribly out of tune but it fit the theme of the day. After that they ran through a selection of songs with a similar subject matter; Cleaning Out My Closet, and Car Wash being two, anything about cleaning, or washing would do. Pete insisted that Dirty was appropriate, even if it was a different sort of dirty, and did his best Christina Aguilera impression, while singing into the mop. By the time they got to Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair, Patrick and Joe couldn't help laughing, and Patrick joined in, belting it out with him. Joe jokingly suggested that they re-enact the Queen video, for I Want To Break Free, which sort of fit the theme of cleaning, even if it was just housework in drag, and the suggestion alone sent them all into a fit of giggles that lasted until the cleaning was finished.

Patrick had never been more in love with the couch that cushioned his ass when he finally got to relax. It felt blissful to put his feet up on the now clean coffee table, and stuff his face with pizza and beer with his fellow cleaners. Joe put on a zombie movie that no one really watched, but it provided background noise to enjoy.

When pizzas were devoured and beer bottles emptied, Patrick headed to his own room to do a quick tidy up. No one would really be checking if it was clean but it made sense to give it a once over, if the rest of the apartment was getting cleaned too. His room was nowhere near as messy as the rest of the house, or as disgusting for that matter. It was the only space that he managed to keep vaguely clean, mostly because he didn't really want to sleep in his own filth. Who would? After several long minutes of tidying, he sat down on edge of his bed with his laptop. Just for a second, of course. 

Half an hour into his quick break, he was sprawled on his bed, his back propped against the headboard. He looked up when there was a knock at the door. It was Pete. 

"Hey. I texted my friend Andy. He might be interested in the vacant room. Thought I'd let you know."  
"Oh, that's great. The sooner we get someone in, the better, I guess."  
Pete sort of hovered. He brushed the toe of his shoe against a spot on Patricks carpet looking a little awkward. Patrick put his laptop down.  
"Did you need any help cleaning up here? I mean, everything else seems to be done. I thought you might want some help."  
"Nah, that's cool. Thanks though. I did come up to do some tidying up, but I think we've done enough for one day. Seriously thanks for your help today, Pete. You didn't have to do any of that."  
"I don't mind." Pete paused and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "It was fun hanging out with you."  
"Well, I really appreciate the help. And yeah it was pretty fun. Who knew cleaning a filthy house could actually be enjoyable?"  
Pete smiled and then looked hesitant. "Well, Joe is about to get pretty baked downstairs. If you don't need any help, I guess I should head on home. I'll let Joe know if Andy wants the room."  
Pete turned to leave. Patrick should really finish sorting his room, he knew he should. But he considered how much fun he'd had today doing something as mundane and as downright awful as cleaning, and he also considered how he was in no way going to continue to clean for the rest of the evening. He wanted company. He wanted Pete's company. "Hey, Pete? You can hang out of you like. I'm just watching shit on YouTube, but you can stay. I mean, if you want?"

Pete's face broke into a huge grin. "Awesome!" He practically bounded across the room and launched himself onto the bed to settle up at the headboard beside Patrick. "What are we watching? Tell me it's cat videos! Cats are fucking crazy."

They spent far too long laughing at cats doing stupid things, before moving onto dogs and then other animals. It was a good thing that they hadn't gone anywhere near YouTube before they started cleaning, because there's no feasible way they would have done any work if they had. It was worse than Mario Kart for wasting time. 

Pete was warm against Patrick, their shoulders pressing with an occasional brush of skin on skin when their arms or fingers touched. Patrick could feel the shake of Pete's laughter every time a cat fell over, jumped over-dramatically at something, or walked on its hind legs. Seeing Pete laugh like that was like a soothing balm after their exhausting day.

When the battery life of the laptop was dwindling, Patrick reached over Pete to his bedside table to grab the cable so that they could continue their YouTube marathon. In doing so he was half stretched across Pete's torso and he realised how physically close he was to Pete. They were almost chest to chest, almost nose to nose, and Patrick stopped short of the cable when he locked eyes with Pete. He forgot everything momentarily. Pete's gaze dropped to Patrick's mouth and then flicked back up to meet Patrick's eyes again. 

Patrick pulled away, back to the position he'd been sitting in before. He was sure that he shouldn't really be accosting Joe's hot friend when they were doing something as innocent as watching backflipping cats on the internet. Pete didn't move. He just smiled at Patrick. "I really did have fun today." Patrick held his breath once again as Pete reached his hand up to cup Patricks jaw. He brushed his thumb along the curve of Patrick's lower lip, and down his chin. Pete looked beautiful. His eyes were dark and intense, and his flat-ironed hair fell across his forehead haphazardly. 

Patrick felt himself moving forward, but before his mouth reached Pete's, Pete spoke. "You're about the only person I'll clean a toilet for, Patrick Stump." Pete leaned forward where Patrick had stopped. He bridged the gap and pressed his lips to Patrick's, warm and soft and just a tiny bit chapped in the centre. There was a hint of pressure behind Pete's kiss, just enough to make Patrick want more. He kissed back, and tasted Pete, and was a little disappointed when Pete pulled away from the kiss. Their faces were still so close, and Patrick could have just leaned forward the extra inch to kiss Pete again. But he spoke instead. 

"Wait. So you just came over here to hang out with me?"  
Pete grinned. "Yeah. I mean, Joe's a big boy. I'm sure he can clean his own mess. I just wanted to maybe spend time with you."  
"You cleaned our toilet!"  
"I like you, Patrick." He smiled, that was enough to explain it.  
Patrick knew he had a stupid, goofy grin on his face. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Pete."  
"Really?" Pete sounded incredulous, but he leaned forward again and placed a small kiss on the centre of Patrick's lips, and another on the side. "I can do other nice things, you know." He kissed Patrick again, harder this time, and Patrick let his tongue sneak in against Pete's. He twisted his fingers into Pete's hair, pushing the stray strands from his forehead. Pete smelled faintly of bleach and bathroom cleaner, and tasted like the beer they had both just drank. He hummed a little happy noise against Patrick's mouth and manoeuvred himself over, so that he was straddling Patrick's thighs. And, wow, Pete felt amazing cradled in Patricks lap, body heat radiating even through the two pairs of jeans, and already hard against Patrick. Patrick pulled at a handful of Pete's shirt, drawing him closer and deepening the kiss.

Patrick let his hands slide up under Pete's shirt. His skin was so soft against the pads of Patrick's fingers. He fitted his palms to Pete's hips through his jeans and held him there, feeling the weight of him, both on his lap, and pressing him back against the headboard, warm and heavy. He slid his hands around to cup Pete's ass, and when he squeezed it, Pete rewarded him by moaning and grinding himself down against Patrick. 

Feeling Pete's fingers stroke gentle lines along Patrick's jaw and throat sent shivers down his spine, and Pete's other hand skimmed over Patrick's ribs and chest. He tugged up Patrick's shirt and rubbed against the soft flesh of Patrick's belly. Pete's hands were slightly rough, a little work-worn from all their cleaning. He teased a finger up and down Patrick's zipper, then rested it on his belt buckle, and just waited for a moment. Pete pressed his fingers against the skin at Patrick's waist band and dipped a fingertip inside. "Can I?” he asked. Patrick nodded his head and his lips slid against Pete's unevenly with the motion. Pete fumbled Patrick's belt and fly open, and then pushed his hand in between the skin and fabric. Patrick forgot how to kiss, and even how to breathe, as Pete's fingers curled round his dick and began to stroke in a steady rhythm. 

Patrick breathed hard against Pete's mouth and then damp against his neck as he came undone in Pete's hand. It was going to be over far quicker than he would like. He could blame the fact that he was tired, or that maybe he was half stoned on all the chemicals in the detergents, but really it was the fact that Pete was gorgeous, and Patrick had liked him for longer that he would admit out loud. When he came, he stuttered and moaned into Pete's skin and arched his hips forward, spilling thickly into Pete's grip. 

Pete smiled a very pleased smile and kissed Patrick again, greedy and eager. "You're fucking beautiful, Patrick." Patrick tried to regain his composure, his heart backflipping, and felt the pulse in his ears slowly come down. Now, he really wanted to make Pete feel as good as he'd just felt.

He unbuttoned Pete's jeans, and shoved them down. Pete helped by wiggling his hips (and, Jesus Christ, Patrick would need to see those bare hips wiggle again at some point), so that his jeans were mid-thigh and Pete's dick was exposed. Patrick curled his hand around the hot, smooth skin and worked him in fast and even motions, while Pete pressed his open mouth to Patrick's neck. Pete's thighs trembled and his hips bucked forward to meet Patrick's hand. He made the most gorgeous sound when he came, and pulsed hot over Patrick's hand and over the front of his shirt. Pete kissed Patrick's neck lightly, and purred against him, "I think you have more laundry to do tomorrow. I'm sorry, but only a little bit sorry." Though Patrick thought Pete didn't look anything close to sorry. "That was hot." He looked delighted, and Patrick pulled him forward and kissed him again, slow and soft and amazing.  
"I don't mind doing laundry if that's the reason." He pointed to the mess on his shirt and grinned back at Pete. If you're the reason, he meant. 

Pete fixed and jeans and boxers back up and climbed off Patrick, settling at his side. He flashed a grin at Patrick. "So, that was pretty awesome, Trick."  
"Yeah, it really was."

Patrick shimmied over to the edge if the bed. It seemed a little bit silly to feel self-conscious of taking his shirt off in front of Pete, seeing as he had just come all over Pete's hand, but Patrick blushed when he removed his shirt and quickly pulled on a clean one. Pete's eyes never left Patrick as he changed. Seeing Pete look at him like that, felt pretty fantastic and it made him forget the flush he felt in his cheeks. He joined Pete again on the bed and Pete cuddled in close, both pressed once again against the headboard. Pete grabbed his hand and fitted their fingers together.

There was a knock at the door but before Patrick could answer, Joe opened the door and burst in. "Hey, Patrick. This guy Andy just text messaged me and said he's interest in the room. I think Pete knows him....oh." Joe took one look at Pete and Patrick, his eyes skipping from one to the other, and stopped in his tracks. "I didn't know you were still here, Pete. Eh, sorry guys."   
Patrick was eternally grateful that both he and Pete were covered up again but they looked pretty dishevelled. Pete's top button on his jeans was still open and they both had fucked up hair and red, kiss worn lips.   
"Hey, that's great. Andy is good people." Pete grinned.  
"I'll leave you to it." Joe pointed at the door, obviously not sure where to look. He was pretty stoned, but was still able to put two and two together, and realise that he was intruding. When Pete and Patrick both grinned at him, his face flexed into a smile. "Good for you guys."

"I sort of have to go too, Trick. I hate to love you and leave you, I really, really do. But I gotta get home." Pete hooked an arm around Patrick's neck and kissed him sweetly. "Sorry." This time Pete did look sorry. He got up off the bed and headed for the door. By the time he was half way there, Patrick already sort of missed him.   
"You should come over to my house tomorrow, though." He smiled warmly at Patrick.  
"Sure." Patrick felt a little giddy at thought. "Sounds like a plan."  
Pete bounded back across the room to kiss Patrick yet again. "We can watch more videos and make out."  
"Do I have to clean your toilet?"  
Pete laughed hard. "No, Pattycakes. You don't." He looked at Patrick almost seriously for a second, but with broke out a smirk and an arched eyebrow. "Unless you really want to. You can even wear your disgusting sexy rubber gloves if you like. Whatever you want." He pressed his smile against Patrick's cheek a final time.

Whatever he wanted sounded pretty perfect to Patrick. Especially when what he wanted was Pete.


End file.
